


The End of the Sentimental Journey

by KatieHavok



Series: Breeding Lilacs [14]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Confident Newt, Dating, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hotels, Loss of Virginity, Love Letters, Oral Sex, Paris (City), Pillow Talk, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Restaurants, Reunions, Romance, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Virgin Tina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieHavok/pseuds/KatieHavok
Summary: We could reach the end of the sentimental journey, Newt tacks on in a shaky hand that betrays his nerves, and Tina closes her eyes.Surely you know what that means?She does, and she counts down the days, then the hours, until she can see him again.





	The End of the Sentimental Journey

*

The invitation is his letter, the last one he sends before they reunite in Paris.

_We could reach the end of the sentimental journey_ , Newt tacks on in a shaky hand that betrays his nerves, and Tina closes her eyes. _Surely you know what that means?_

She does, and she counts down the days, then the hours, until she can see him again.

She turns to Queenie for guidance when it comes to dressing for the occasion and her radiant sister is only too willing to help with both fashion and nerves. “Teenie,” she enthuses, “I know you’ll be okay. _He’ll_ be okay. He’s a good man, your Mr. Scamander. He won’t hurt you.” Then: “No, I don’t think it’s too fast. Go out with him, let him show you a good time, and if you ain’t feeling it, then you don’t have to do nothing; he ain’t gonna force you.”

Tina knows this to be true, but that doesn’t help the flutter of nerves...or the anticipatory tingle low in her belly.

She’s quick but thorough when she bathes, and even takes the time to remove her underarm hair—a style her sister insists is all the rage now, and Tina defers to her judgment when it comes to matters of fashion. Queenie picks out a lovely brown sheath dress for her to wear, with intricate black bead-work and a scandalously low-cut back and front. The dress has a distinctly American sensibility, but she knows he won’t mind, and she doesn’t plan on wearing it long enough for French tongues to wag. Beneath it, she layers on a very basic black girdle and black stockings atop a simple slip and doesn’t bother with the impediment of step-ins.

(She’s visited with the sudden and powerful vision of Newt gently trailing his calloused hands beneath the hem of her dress, eyes widening when _nothing_ blocks his way and shivers hotly.)

Tina dabs on her perfume and dusts some powder over her nose, but decides to forgo all other cosmetic enhancements. Her sister sets her hair into glossy, dark waves and Tina smiles her thanks despite her nerves, not quite sure what to do with herself until Queenie pulls her close and kisses her cheek.

“You’ll be fine, sis. He’ll be gentle,” she reminds her purely.

Then a brisk knock sounds on the door and there’s no more time for her to be nervous.

*

“Tina,” he murmurs in greeting, and she takes a moment to regard him.

Newt looks much the same as when she’d seen him last. A little thinner, perhaps, and his summer tan has faded, causing his freckles to stand out on his cheeks. Yet his eyes are still the same shade of blue-green, steady on her beneath his too-long mop of hair, and his mouth and hands are still kind and sure. He’s even wearing his usual suit, though clean and pressed, and she can smell cologne layered atop his constant scent of herbs and sunshine.

“Newt,” she replies in kind and smiles.

He gallantly offers his elbow and she accepts, focusing on the press of his muscled arm against her side as he leads them out of the upscale hotel and to a small restaurant. He gives his name to the maître d' without stammering and the man leads them to a small, secluded table, lit by a single candle and tucked into a private corner.

“Monsieur, Madam,” he sniffs and leaves them to study their menus.

Tina arches a brow while looking pointedly around the upscale establishment and Newt stifles a chuckle. She frowns when she turns to the first page of selections only to find that it’s all in illegible French until he leans close and points things out to her: snails and frogs and things she wouldn’t think to eat unless she was starving—and perhaps not even then.

He finally points out a simple chicken and wine dish with a laugh and that’s what Tina settles on, ordering it with a smile and enjoying the flush of warmth that his laughter brings. She leans across the table on impulse and he meets her halfway, kissing her sweetly as the candle paints his face in shadows.

“I missed you,” he admits when they part, and she nods and fingers her fork when her nerves get the better of her.

“I know,” she acknowledges with an inclined head, and now it’s his turn to look nervous. “I missed you, too. Very much.” She smiles and it’s steady on her face.

“I have a room,” he says abruptly, and she sets the fork aside to give him her full attention. “A single. With a single bed, I mean. Though the bed has sufficient space for two. It’s even in the same hotel that you’re sharing with your sister, if a few floors down.” He clears his throat. “Would you...please stay with me tonight, Tina?” His fingers curl nervously against the tabletop before he lifts his head, boldly meeting her eyes. “Please,” he says again, and she reaches to squeeze his hand.

“Of course I’ll stay with you,” she murmurs warmly, and their fingers remained twined until the food arrives and talking is abandoned in favor of eating and wine and the fascinating play of candlelight in his smiling eyes.

*

They don’t linger for dancing or dessert.

Newt takes her back to his room, as planned, and the nervous beat of billywig wings in her stomach speaks of anticipation. They ride the lift with a polite space between them—until he snakes his arm around her waist, and she can feel the rhythmic, nervous tap of his fingers against her hip.

He’s carefully avoiding looking her in the eye, and she smiles until the tension spooling between them gets to be too much. She kisses him, his lips soft and sweet against hers until he sighs and pulls away.

“Our floor,” he says breathlessly, and fishes in his pocket for the room key before tugging her inside.

The door is barely latched behind them when she makes her move, twining her arms around his shoulders to bury her fingers in his hair as she kisses him, deeply enough to control his breathing. He responds eagerly, his fingers smoothing over her exposed skin before slipping beneath the edge of her dress, his touch light and almost reverent as he steers them toward the bed.

They manage to shed his suit coat and waistcoat along the way, her nimble fingers plucking at and removing his preferred bow tie before slipping the buttons of his shirt from their eyes. He groans when she slips inside the fine linen to scratch her nails gently over his chest, and ducks his head to nibble her throat before fisting her dress.

“May I?” Newt asks in a shaky voice, and she halts their backward momentum to nod while raising her arms. He wastes no time, tugging the beaded sheath over her head and gently laying it aside before his hands go into her hair and he kisses her, twining his tongue around hers, nibbling her lip and kissing his way down the column of her throat. Tina hisses at the goosebumps he leaves in his wake, sinks her fingernails into his freckled skin, and tips her head back to grant him access.

Newt runs up against the barrier of her shift and makes a plaintive sound before trailing a finger beneath it. “Too many layers,” he says meditatively, and his hand slips lower to cup the swell of her breast. Her nipple tingles and hardens against his palm, and he produces a pleased hum before meeting her eyes. “Perhaps not such a problem after all,” he ribs, and she shows her teeth in a smile before pushing his shirt off his shoulders to flutter to the floor.

“You shouldn’t tease, Mr. Scamander,” she scolds gently, and he makes an inquisitive sound. “It may get you in trouble.” Tina doesn’t give him time to respond, latching her mouth to the hinge of his jaw to suck until he _groans_ , slow and deep and loud. The sound goes straight to her core, where heat pools until she has to squeeze her thighs together to soothe the expectant tingle there.

“I _like_ this punishment, Miss Goldstein” Newt manages after she releases him, her tongue running gently over the bruise she's left behind, and Tina’s clenched thighs quiver in anticipation. She steps back until her calves impact the mattress, where Newt catches her before she topples. Once she’s steady, his fingers drop to the zipper on her girdle as he meets her eyes. “May I?” He husks, and she nods breathlessly.

His fingers are steady and sure as he releases her from her bindings, peeling off her girdle after unfastening her stockings from her garters. He doesn’t ease them down her legs, however; instead, he encourages her to sit before sinking between her knees. “Is this alright?” he whispers while making eye contact, and she nods frantically as his hands catch on the smooth silk covering her legs before he urges her to the edge of the bed by gently tugging her thighs.

“ _Tina_ ,” he breathes, eyes closed, and she can _feel_ his breath through the thin barrier between them. She shivers involuntarily while stroking his face and he opens his eyes to smirk before squeezing her hip.

His hands glide up her thighs to the edge of her slip, and she nods at his questioning look before allowing him to push it past her stomach and chest. He stretches to ease it over her head and her hair spills around her face when he tosses it aside, before cupping her chin and kissing her hard enough to bruise. She moans into it and his calloused hand finds her breast again, this time with nothing between them. His mouth follows and she arches into the contact, her toes curling as she gasps.

“Good,” he declares in a throaty whisper and switches to the other side. He rings her nipple with his teeth before laving it with his tongue, and Tina gasps and pleads to deities she does not believe in as her skin tingles. His hands fall to her inner thighs, pushing them apart as he sinks lower, dragging his mouth along her sternum, past her belly button until he’s hovering over the core of her, the hidden, moist glade at the heart of her being that only she has had occasion to explore.

He halts his descent to look at her, green eyes heavy-lidded and hazy as he stares reverently at her center before lifting his chin to her. “You are lovely here,” he addresses her nerves in a murmur, and his fingers card through the light thatch of hair before he sinks lower, his mouth brushing her inner thigh.

Tina hisses through her teeth and he quirks a smile while leaning forward, damp, hot mouth trailing inwards until he nibbles the crease where her legs meet her body before dropping a kiss into her damp curls. The muscles in her stomach twitch and quiver with reaction, and he hums and drags a finger over her skin before flicking his gaze to her face.

“May I know you this way?” He purrs, and she closes her eyes. He splays a hand in the small of her back and she leans against it automatically, curling around it to open herself while he supports her weight. She braces her upper body on extended arms as he guides one of her silk-clad legs over his shoulders and nuzzles into her skin. Tina moans softly, a sound that turns into a ragged gasp when he teasingly kisses her swollen outer lips.

“Yes,” she gasps, fingers curling into his hair, and she isn’t sure if it’s permission or encouragement but he takes it as both, groaning as he runs out his tongue to flick against her before sliding between her folds. He samples her gently but hungrily as she mewls and bows her back to tug his hair, until he pulls her forward to angle her hips. He thrusts her tongue into her, filling her with warm velvet before abandoning her cleft for the silky nub crowing it. He curls his tongue against it wantonly until she shivers and gasps.

“Mercy _Lewis_ ,” she moans, and he wraps his lips around her to _suck_. She arches, her heartbeat loud in her ears, a flushing heating her chest as he urges her incrementally closer to the edge. “ _Newt_ ,” Tina gasps, a warning and a plea, and he rolls his tongue faster while slipping a finger inside. She draws against him hard and tight, her hands tugging his hair as she rocks her hips and _comes_ , hard enough to see stars.

Newt pulls at her steadily as she contracts against his lips before collapsing into the mattress with a low moan. He catches and calms her, gentling the action of his mouth until she recovers while petting his hair in apology. He wipes his chin when he leans away, nibbling her inner thigh before moving sinuously up her body to claim her lips. Tina welcomes his kiss with a small, hungry sound, hooking her leg around him as he sinks into her skin until the coarse fabric of his trousers presses into her still-tingling core and she twitches against it.

She can feel him straining the fabric she rubs against, hot and hard and _pulsing_ with need. She rocks her hips upwards to watch his eyelids flutter, before dropping her fingers to his waist. “I want you,” she reassures him against his mouth, and he nibbles her bottom lip before dropping his head to watch her hands open his fastenings.

She loosens his fly with sure fingers, reaching inside to part his underwear and find his length. She’s never _done_ this before but she doesn’t allow that to stop her, curling her fingers around him to hear his gasp and feel him shiver, before stroking him experimentally. His eyelids flutter before drifting closed, and he makes small, animal sounds of pleasure until he gently pulls away. She looks at him in confusion, but he doesn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he shoves his trousers past his hips until he can kick them off and he is free of clothing.

Tina raises onto her elbows to examine him, his lower half an expanse of well-toned muscle, freckles, and countless scars. She touches his shoulders and chest gently, almost reverently, before trailing her fingers down his washboard stomach to see and feel the part of him that is meant to fit inside her. Her lips part and she licks them subconsciously, his eyes carefully watching her reaction as she looks and explores.

He’s thick here, thicker than she expects. Longer, too, but elegantly built. The hair it’s nested in isn’t a surprise but the freckles _are_ , and she’s taken with the sudden, puckish urge to chase them with her tongue. She refrains, for now, choosing instead to stroke him inexpertly as he bites his lip and gently, _gently_ thrust into her hand. This goes on for a short while until he fumblingly halts her movements to look at her through wide eyes.

“Enough of that, or this’ll be over before it’s properly begun,” he whispers and shifts so that his knees are between her thighs. His hands rise to her shoulders, and he urges her back until she’s flat on the mattress and he’s covering her with his body. She clumsily wraps one of her legs around him and he groans while hooking his elbow around her opposite knee. “Tina,” he murmurs and initiates heated eye contact. “Have you done this before?”

She bites her bottom lip nervously while shaking her head, until his warm, slightly trembling hand pushes her hair away from her face before cupping her cheek. “That’s fine. We’ll go slow,” he reassures warmly and adjusts his hips so that he’s pressing against her _just so_. “Tina—may I please be inside you?” She can feel him trembling with restrained potential, holding himself still so she may give her permission for this final, irrevocable act. She nods jerkily as her thighs shake in anticipation.

“You need to say it," Newt whispers with a gentle smile while tracing her lips with his thumb, until she captures the digit between her teeth, touching her tongue to the calloused pad and watching his eyes tighten.

“Yes,” she intones, and he drops his head to watch as he takes himself in hand. “ _Please_ , Newt...” He nods breathlessly at that, sliding his length against her a few times before slipping it lower. With one arm around her shoulders, the other holding himself in place as he lines them up, his eyes find hers as he rocks forward to nudge into her body.

Tina’s bracing for an anticipated pain—the forced scrape of skin-on-skin, a sense of invasion and the sting of rupture. There _is_ a momentary twinge, the slightest burn as she stretches to accommodate him, there and gone again when he takes her virginity. Elated, the ache is quickly replaced by delicious friction when he gasps and sinks home, his hips flush against hers.

They take a moment to breathe together, eyes wide as they adjust to the new sensations. “Are you…okay?” Newt finally asks, voice thick with passion and wonder as she twitches her hips experimentally beneath him. Tina has to swallow a few times before she can answer.

“Yes, I am,” she manages, and Newt kisses her sweetly before bracing himself against her as he begins to move.

He starts slowly, as promised, watching her face carefully for signs of discomfort when he withdraws only to gently push back in, settling into a firm but unhurried rhythm that sees her first wondering, then sighing, then coiling beneath him as heat and pressure builds. “Newt,” she gasps in ecstatic disbelief, and he drops his head to brush her lips as his arm around her tightens, tightens, _tightens_.

“It’s okay,” he husks into her skin, his faintly smiling mouth flitting between her lips, her neck, her breasts. He suckles, nips, and teases; his fingers clench her skin before finding her hair, curling into the heavy silk strands as he pets her scalp. “I’ve got you, Tina,” he promises, and she winds around him with a cry as his steady ministrations urge her closer to the brink.

Tina drags her fingers from his hips to the curve of his flexing rear, nails sinking into the firm muscle as she encourages him to increase his momentum. Her mouth falls open when she rolls her head back, only to gasp when something hot and molten _deep_ inside her, something he’s carefully kindled and fed, swells and crests.

“Come for me,” he breathily encourages against her ear, and she does, clenching around him rhythmically as he steadily sees her through it.

Newt groans when she collapses against the mattress, boneless and sated, and allows her a moment to recover her breath before capturing her lips. He thrusts into her shallowly as he adjusts the position of her legs, kissing their silken expanse before picking up the tempo. The new angle does something for him, his whole body going instantly tense and hard as he sinks deeper into her, and his mouth falls open on a moan. Tina runs her fingers through his hair as his hips roll sharply into hers, an occasional shudder moving through his frame that brings a tiny smile to her face.

“Your turn,” she whispers, and his hazy eyes attempt to focus on her. She smiles while consciously tightening around him, watching his eyes darken and flutter as she uses her entire body to spur him to the edge. “I’ve got you, too,” she promises, her fingernails raking his back, and he chokes before burying his face in her neck. Tina purrs while touching every bit of his skin she can reach until his firm strokes devolve into a series of rough snaps. Newt’s arms and back thrum with tension when he moans in his throat and gathers her close before going still.

“There you are,” she breathes while carding her fingers through his hair. He shudders deeply and she can _feel_ him twitching where he’s buried deep inside her, a hot splash signaling his release. He trembles before collapsing gracelessly, panted breaths gusting over her shoulders as he absently kisses her skin.

“I love you, you know,” she murmurs when he’s recovered, and he brushes his mouth over her collarbone before huffing a pleased breath of laughter. He’s unmistakably rumpled and sweaty when he lifts his head, but so obviously overjoyed with her words and what they’ve shared that his eyes seem to glow.

“I love you, too,” he whispers with a disbelieving smile and leans forward to kiss her thoroughly.

Tina hums against his lips when they come up for air. “That’s good,” she purrs and dazzles him with a smile that reveals her hidden dimple. “And not only because of what we just did. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I wouldn’t have agreed to do this if I didn’t.”

Newt nods. “I know.” He brushes her mouth gently. “And you should know that I...I wouldn’t have asked. If I didn’t love you.” A peck. “Which I do.” A slow kiss. “So very much, Tina.”

“How convenient, then,” she breathes happily, and he samples her lips one last time before rolling to lay at her side. She watches him go while relaxing her shoulders into the pillow and pulling the blankets over them. “Now, I think the most important question is: how long until we can do that again?”

Newt chuckles and averts his eyes bashfully before ducking his head beneath the covers. He kisses her neck and chest tenderly, reflectively, before tonguing her nipple, which quickly tingles back to full hardness.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. “I’ve never had anyone ask for an encore performance.” He grins up at her from around her breast and the sight makes her groan, which causes his gaze to darken. “Keep doing that, though,” he purrs throatily while tasting her skin, “and I think it’ll happen quite quickly.”

“Well, quick is good,” she whispers as one hand burrows into his hair, the other sliding between them. “Isn’t it?”

“I would think so,” he murmurs and chokes when she squeezes him. “When it comes to recovery, at least.” Tina meets his eyes to gauge his expression before releasing him to sit up. Newt watches her move hungrily in the low light of the room before reaching out to touch her jaw. She curls into the contact, purring in the back of her throat as she climbs to her knees and pushes his shoulders into the mattress before bending over him.

“Let’s time it, then,” Tina whispers silkily against his stomach before dragging her mouth _lower_ , and he’s only too happy to comply.

*

Newt, it turns out, doesn’t require much time at all to recover, and they spend the remainder of the pre-dawn hours making love until they collapse into the sheets, panting and sated and with their hearts shining in their eyes.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Note: "The end of the sentimental journal" is an archaic slang-term for sexual intercourse, that was quite common in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. It's something I am convinced Newt would know, and Tina would be able to at least figure out.
> 
> For an anonymous user on Tumblr, who won a contest of sorts that I held. Congrats, nonnie!
> 
> Want your own prompt filled? Find me [@katiehavok](http://katiehavok.tumblr.com/), if that's your thing.


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